


Family Affair

by x_x



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M, Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24785143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_x/pseuds/x_x
Summary: Hawke and Carver fight over the bathroom. They both cross lines, neither backs down, and things only escalate.
Relationships: Carver Hawke/Female Hawke
Comments: 6
Kudos: 81





	1. Funny Thing About Bathing

Now, Hawke didn't ask for much, did she?

The answer was, no, she the fuck did  _ not _ .

More commonly, someone had requested something of  _ her _ , and she would get it done, because of course she would. Her entire life consisted of deeds and favors for the sake of others, in fact. All she really did all day was step outside, and someone would find her approachable and ask something of her. True, she would do it because her family needed the money, but truer still that she accepted said requests because she knew she was  _ good _ at getting things done. And the good cred carried more work and coin to her, so why not, then? Bring them all on, she figured.

This, though.  _ This _ ...this  _ betrayal _ . This disrespect!

Imagine, thus: Hawke having come home after a long day of deed-doing and favor-granting, whole body aching from being on her feet and on the move since she'd stepped out of their dear uncle's house. Their dear uncle's house, which despite location, dilapidating infrastructure, and cramped walls, had one saving grace! A luxury installation so apropos to Gamlen's habits of squandering sensible long-term investments in lieu of insignificant self-indulgence to the highest degree, but one that even Hawke could not argue the necessity of: a bath tub.

Hawke had  _ never _ lived  _ anyplace _ with a bath tub in her life.

Hawke had tried it, marveled at the exquisite feel of sitting in heated water, and fell in love immediately; it had become her favorite time of day, if there was time enough left whenever she arrived home. Sure enough, once she saved up enough money to move out of Gamlen's humble shack, she herself would absolutely have a tub in her own home.

Unfortunately, that dream was yet to be in reach, much less achieved, on their current budget. So Gamlen's tub would have to do. And it  _ did _ do.

Which is why when Hawke came home today, exhausted and sore, she'd been quick to get her wind-down of it all started before anyone else got home. She drew the water, heated it pot-full by pot-full at the fire, and pot-full by pot-full hauled it to the tub in rounds. It always took a while, but it was always so worth it. And by the time she'd finished, it was nearly sundown.

At the end of it, all she wanted was to sink into the hot water and  _ lay _ .

She'd left the house, only very briefly, to purchase a quick poultice soak for her sore muscles and raw callouses built up over the day. And when she got back, threw all her armor off in her room, grabbed a towel, and practically frolicked into the bathroom--

Hawke, who again, had never asked for much at all, who had  _ so _ been looking forward to her bath--

\--found none other than her weasely arse  _ younger brother _ , soaking in  _ her _ bath water.

So, it could be forgiven, that when she shrieked, " _ CARVER _ !", her voice broke from the hysteric cusp of the moment upon discovery. She very nearly dropped to her knees and emitted an prolonged "nooooo" for effect, because that was exactly what her heart would have her do.

"Sister," was the response she got. He didn't even look up. In fact, he slumped further in, sending a rush of steam up from the water that splashed out onto the wood bearings. He knew  _ exactly _ what he was doing.

It wasn't often Hawke lost her cool. But, if she were to, it made plenty sense that her brother had written the playbook of how exactly to get her goat. Still, as much as she wanted to cast any and all assortment of elemental spells to  _ kill _ him, some small voice in her brain doth protested,  _ But what about the bath? _ Right. She could still salvage this.

"Carver," she repeated, much more in control of herself this time as she shut the door behind her. She didn't want the bath water to cool more rapidly than necessary before she was able to rightfully enjoy it. "You seem to have appropriated something of mine."

"I must have missed proof of your claim," her brother said breezily. He had his eyes closed, the picture of relaxation. "But I could have sworn there was none."

"Brother, dear, I have come home from a long, tiresome day. And I set this bath up for  _ me _ . And I'm sure that you  _ knew _ this bath was  _ mine _ , so I'm wondering, why the cruelty? Do you dislike me that much? Would I ever steal a bath from you?"

At this, Carver looked over and shot a glare at her. "You did last week!"

"I didn't--" She stopped and thought about it. Remembered. She  _ did _ love the tub. It was getting to be a problem. "Oh, right."

" _ Right _ . So this makes us square," Carver declared, patting the tub's rim. "You owed me, and now you can consider that debt repaid.  _ Next _ time, don't steal other people's baths, seeing as you dislike it happening to you so much."

But--  _ but _ \--!

Hawke had been told she had too much pride. Whether it was borne of being the eldest child, or her father's daughter, or plain and simple stubborness, it was hard to say, but it was there. And she still wanted her bath. She would still  _ get _ her bath.

"I'm not getting out, no matter how long you give me the sad eyes," Carver said then. His eyes were closed now as he continued his recline. "I'm serious. It won't work."

She snorted. "You don't have to get out."

She hung her towel at the rack next to his, and stepped into the tub.

Carver's eyes snapped open, but with the thick of the steam, she was sure he couldn't see any detail as she lowered herself into the water. She felt his feet dart back from hers as she sat down, and the water around them lurched from his startled movements.

"What are you  _ DOING _ ?!" It appeared to be Carver's turn to shriek to the point his voice cracked.

Hawke simply smiled at him from the opposite end of the tub. "What's the problem? We used to bathe together all the time as children."

She expected a retort, something to the effect of "but we are no longer children!" And Carver did open his mouth briefly, like the words were about to fall out. Instead, his mouth shut again, and he settled back down in his end of the tub, a sudden coolness befalling his expression.

"Suit yourself," he told her. "I'm  _ not _ yielding on this."

To push his point, he adjusted himself so that his legs were spread, unabashed and unabiding to any concept of decency. The display shocked her, despite the water being too hazy to see detail from whatever soak Carver had thrown in for himself-- out of utter principle, she found herself flailing and looking away before she could help it.

Carver's steady gaze caught her flighty one, and he had the nerve to smirk. "Uncomfortable, are we?"

Hawke narrowed her eyes at him.

Really, she was sort of proud of him. He'd caught onto her game quickly, and caught her offguard besides. Maybe her little brother was finally maturing.

But if he thought he could get rid of her so easily, that he had won this battle so decisively...well. At day's end, she was still, after all, the  _ elder _ sister. He would do well to remember that. And she would do well to remind him.

"Are we?" she echoed, regaining herself. "If anything, I think you're a bit  _ too _ comfortable with this predicament."

"I'm just enjoying that dumb look on your face," Carver said. "You know, the one you get when you realize you're in over your head?"

"So familiar with my looks.... Do you stare at me often?"

As she spoke, she copied Carver's challenge and moved her arm from covering her chest. She didn't miss the flicker of his eyes darting away in panic before flying back to assume steady contact with her again. Forcing that much hyperfocus on her face, he didn't notice her stretching her legs out, and practically leapt as her foot brushed his thigh.

Hawke bit back a too-wide grin.

Now this was the little brother she knew. Carver sometimes got a bit too sure of himself, being the brother, the 'man' of the house, the warrior.... It was frankly her responsibility to knock him down a peg. Because sure, Carver may have the playbook on getting her goat, but  _ she _ had the playbook on getting  _ his _ , too.

She leaned forward, and this time didn't bother holding back a grin as she watched him pull back a bit now, shrinking slightly into his end of the tub. 

"May I wash your back, brother?" she offered innocuously. "Since we're both here."

Carver's eyes flashed to life with a glare, that he pointed her way with his trademark scowl of disdain. Wordlessly, he handed her a wash rag and then turned around in the tub, likely figuring it was easier anyway if he didn't have to see her there. He, too, was stubborn like her; a family thing, that. But she at least had his back to the ropes, so the speak.

It...had certainly been a  _ long _ time since they'd last bathed together.

If she hadn't just seen the face of her brother turn away from her, the back it was attached to could have been any  _ man's _ back. A soldier's back. Muscled taut, with  _ clefts _ between the raises that accentuated all that definition. She dug the wash rag into the divides, dragged it gently over the smooth expanse of bulk, marveled at the firmness there, exploring with a sort of an awe at all these changes to Carver she'd never paid attention to before. Feeling daft, Hawke for the very first time strung the following words together: 'my brother is a  _ man _ .'

Thinking about it now, their whole family used to bathe together, when all of them as kids were still too young to understand concepts of decency. When Hawke only knew herself as 'Marian', and her father had been  _ the _ 'Hawke'. Baths back then had felt more like playing. The thought made her smile-- it wasn't at all unlike now. She wondered if that was part of the sibling bond thing.... Always having that ability to regress and be a child again.

"Ease off," Carver grumbled.

Hawke blinked. "What?"

"Your breath. It's...bothering me. You don't have to be so close."

Suddenly insecure, Hawke cupped her hand around her mouth and nose to check her breath. It wasn't terrible at all, as far as she could tell. And she'd been talking to people all day without anyone making comment or any gesture to indicate her breath stunk. But, more to the point, if  _ someone _ found it as offensive as he put on, then she might as well use it.

"You can still get out." Hawke leaned her face over Carver's shoulder, and made sure to be extra-breathy as she said, "If this is too much for you."

He spun around, sending the water around them up in a splash. The next thing Hawke knew, her wrist she'd been washing him with was now caught fast in his hand. Again, Hawke found herself surprised, this time at how much his hand overlapped around her wrist, and the grip he kept. He could probably snap it if he wanted to. This was the same kid she used to carry on her back when he got too tired to walk on his own. When did he get so much bigger than her?

Carver seemed to be breathing heavily, face flushed. Odd, since his action hadn't exactly been very physically taxing. Maybe the bath heat was getting to him. He was glaring at her fiercely again, and as their eyes met, his face seemed to get redder for some reason.

Through gritted teeth, he forced the fakest smile, and asked, "May I wash  _ you _ now, Sister?"

Hawke thought about it for only a moment, before wiggling her wrist until he let go of her. Then, she simply handed him the rag and turned herself around. If neither of them were leaving the tub, she might as well put him to work.

She heard him gasp once she turned, and then she realized what she'd forgotten.

"Sister, these are from today?" Carver asked.

Ambush from the rear at the docks, surprised the whole lot of Athenril's team. She'd taken a blight ton of arrows to the back before she could properly retaliate; five had made it through her leathers. Fighting with them still stuck in her botched the healing process some.

His fingers lightly touched at her skin, and as she turned back around, she knew she didn't even have to answer him. Instead, she gestured for him to scoot.

"I bought a poultice for them. They'll be healed up by the time the bath's done."

"I knew we should have gone with the merceneries," he grumbled, leaning away as she reached past him. He didn't even flinch as she squeezed into him to reach, all the fun in him drained away.

"Yes, I remember, you had a great sword boner for Meeran," Hawke scoffed, hoping to lighten the mood. "I'm sorry I ruined that potential tryst. Shame you'll be stuck a virgin for a bit longer."

"And you need better armor," he went on, not even rising to her jibe.

"My armor is fine." She sat back down, uncorking the poultice bottle and dumping the contents into the water. "Nicer and newer will have to wait until we work off the rest of our debt. You know that."

But Carver still had that frown-- that glum sort of sulk that he did whenever he didn't get his way. Hawke found herself not so annoyed, and more so amused that he still yet possessed a trait he hadn't quite grown out of. She took the washrag and flung it across the tub, laughing when it hit his face with a wet slap and a shout from him. When he looked to her, affronted, she only tapped her back as a reminder and turned herself around again.

Hawke folded her legs to her chest and rested her head on her knees.

She had gone and insulted Carver's lack of love life, but she really didn't have much room to talk. After all, the only man she could get naked in a tub with thus far was her own brother. Still, Hawke figured she could do much worse. She'd known her brother wasn't lacking looks-wise-- girls in the villages or the caravans they had traveled with took interest enough in him. Same as the boys after Bethany or herself. It was his demeanor that bogged down his popularity, but even then she knew that the ladies found appeal in the brash types.

He didn't have to be, but Carver was gentle with her as he moved the rag between the notches in her skin that the arrows had left behind.

"I'll go with you next time," he promised, in a voice as gentle as his touch.

"That's up to Athenril," Hawke mumbled. She could doze off about now. "Pity she likes me more than you. Anyway, why not relax while you can? Not all of us have to break our backs every day."

"It shouldn't have to be you, every time." The wash rag on her paused. "But it always is."

"I'm the chosen one, I suppose."

"That, and you yourself  _ choose _ ." Carver sighed. "There really is something wrong with you."

Hawke snorted. "It's so precious how you go on with this delusion that you're the 'right' one. Finding you proper help will have to come before my new armor."

A stab of pain from her back-- a sudden jab at one of her wounds, out of place the mild treatment she'd been receiving-- had her sitting up straight with a yelp. She whirled around, didn't buy Carver's unconcerned act of mock cluelessness, and immediately smacked him in retaliation.

She wasn't exactly aiming for anywhere specific, but all the better that she got him in the  _ face _ . The sound of it cracked off the walls, and that return echo along with the stupefied look on Carver's mug post-slap filled her with a satisfaction that she just felt in her core could not be found by any other means. Like al good things in life, this was fleeting as the rest. Carver's face quickly twisted into rage and took a chunk of her shoulder flesh between his fingers and pinched her.  _ Hard _ , the blighted son of a--!

Hawke yowled and dove at him. He still had her skin clamped between his thumb and forefinger of one hand while trying to bat off her offenses with the other.

She'd forgotten about him and his huge hands, though. All he needed was one, and just like that, he had both her arms held together at the wrist. They were both somewhat winded from the struggle, hair wet and matted down, and Hawke started seriously considering that a mind blast was well in order.

"You ought to start being nicer to me," Carver said then.

Strange, he didn't sound as gloating as he could have. As Hawke studied him, she realized he looked somewhat subdued. The way he was acting, it was almost like she were the one pinning  _ him _ . In a moment of shyness, she looked down to double-check that her chest was below water level. She let out a breath of relief to see that it was, and also that after having added her poultice, the water had turned a creamy shade of lavender.

Although she was sure that Carver would have been equally mortified had her tits been in full-view, she simply didn't want to go there if she could help it, especially with him pinning her arms like this. That meant the mind blast was out, if she wanted to keep anymore water displacement to a minimum.

She would have to get clever.

And, oh, she could  _ do _ clever.

"Ow, ow--  _ Carver _ !" She hissed, wincing from his pinch.

Carver released her immediately. "Sorry! I know you're already injured. I shouldn't have--"

Freed, she surged forward with both her hands. Carver spotted the action and was able to stop one, but she slipped the other one through his defense of frantic grabs-- and pinched. His nipple. And twisted.

Carver's jaw dropped-- he  _ wailed _ .

Hawke was cackling madly over the sound of his pain and anguish. In her triumph, she missed his recovery, not aware he was moving at her again until it was too late.

His hands were at her chest.

_ Oh, this is going to hurt. _

A nipple for two, it seemed, was the way of this world. Hawke braced herself to reap what she'd sowed.

Perhaps, out of mercy, he didn't do it nearly as hard or viciously as she had done to him. But, therein was the misfortune that would befall upon her. His pinch had just the perfect amount of pressure to sent lightning through her nerves, setting a blaze in her groin. And in that moment of hellish heaven, Hawke  _ moaned _ .

...

She.

Did not.

No.

_ No _ .

Nononono

She gaped at him in utter horror, sure her face must have been red as a beet. She puttered around in her mind to find words, even as she still found herself quivering from the residual rush of it, and when none came she could only stare, flustered in the aftermath.

Carver's eyes had gone wide as hers, though it wasn't quite horror, but something instead like--

Nope, she actually didn't care!

How  _ dare _ he?

Desperate to equalize the stakes, she plunged her hands into the water to get even, groping around until she found-- and Carver gasped, but didn't even raise a hand to stop her-- and, and--

_ What _ .

Well, yes. Sure. She was looking for it. For him. For his--  _ thing _ . Cock, whatever! But. But, but....

But he was  _ hard _ ? Why, Maker, was he  _ hard _ ?

"And you still think you're the 'right' one," Hawke whispered, feeling the last of her faith in the world crumbling to ash in the wind.

"Really, you should get out now," Carver warned, voice thick.

She should have. Any normal, sane person would have. It would be a most understandable, logical thing to do. To most people, it would in fact be the only thing to do at that point. But all Hawke could think of, after a long day of work, of having her back shot out with arrows, of taking all that time to prepare bath, of fighting with her dumb brother who was stubborn as she was-- she just wanted her  _ bath _ . She just wanted her bath!

When she didn't budge or say anything, Carver's hands started moving.

He palmed her slowly at first, shifting the weight of her breasts and seeing how they fell and collected against his touch. Then, a thumb brushed against a nipple. Hawke's breath hitched, though she did her best to look nonchalant when Carver's eyes darted back up to look at her. Then, his fingers were rolling her other nipple until it was hard and Hawke let out a drawn sigh. Again, she shaped up in time for Carver's speculative gaze to bob up to her. But when it fell again, she had to bite her lip from making any more humiliating sounds.

She'd been too busy to touch herself lately. It had been a while. That had to be why--

"You're actually enjoying this," Carver said, with a baffled sort of amusement.

In her hands, his dick stiffened even more.

"And what about you then?" she countered, trying hard to keep her breathing even. "What kind of pervert gets this hard from touching his own sister?"

"You tell me."

She was about to say something smart, something with enough bite to throw him and piss him off. She was about to deliver it with a coy look and maybe a raised brow for good mocking measure. But any plan for the sort dissipated as Carver pushed a finger inside her. The sudden entry made her cry out, and she was near forgetting why this was a bad idea as it sunk deeper in than her own fingers could ever, stretched her as good with his one that would've needed at least her two.

"Slid right in," Carver breathed, astonished. Then, "You're the pervert for getting this worked up having your brother's hands on you."

It was that agitating lilt of superiority that won some of her sense back.

"And yet, I haven't even done anything," she responded, annoyed at the tremble in her voice as her brother's hands worked over her. The digit inside her stoked her heat from the inside, while the hand on her breast fanned the flame-- her body was crawling with the sensation of fire spreading through her. She tried to keep eye contact with him-- Carver gazed back, intent-- but it only intensified it all. So she forced herself to focus on the cock in her hands. "I haven't even done anything...but you're this hard from me?"

Hands, she thought again. Plural. It took both of hers stacked on top of each other to take his length in full, and even then the tip stuck out on a full down-stroke.  _ It doesn't matter _ , she tried to tell herself. Because while she was acting like some kind of meek maiden fair, Carver had her literally wrapped around his finger, had her practically  _ melting _ on him-- and he must have been working on his card face because he appeared completely unbothered by all of it.

She would not be bettered. Especially not by Carver, of all people.

In an attempt to clear her head from the inherent weirdness of the situation, she tried to think back to the last time she was with a man, to remember how she had touched someone before. It...really had been quite some time.

She thumbed over the head of Carver's cock, stroking him slow, swiveling her grip slightly as she pulled up and altering the pressure of her hand as she pushed down. She didn't think of how she was still allowing him to guide her, moving her hands in time to the finger pumping inside of her cunt and pulling liquid heat to a drip from her.

It earned her a change in his pace of breathing, at least.

"Sister...."

Hawke's mind was a haze. She didn't know where to focus her eyes or her thoughts, and that only heightened  _ everything _ . "You can avoid something regrettable if you leave the bath now, you know."

Carver chuckled, the sound weighted and breathy. It gusted over her skin-- hot, yet sending a tickling chill through her the made the ache in her cunt worse. She thought about making some kind of smart remark about it. She thought about the remark he'd made about her breath earlier.

"So can you," Carver reminded. There was no taunt there. Just sincerity.

When she caught his gaze this time, it was still focused right on her. How? How could he take all of this in stride? Her heart was hammering dizzyingly quick behind her ribs, and she wondered if he could feel it as he molded layer upon layer of tantalizing caress, draining all her focus to the pleasure building inside of her and rendering the rest of her nearly numb.

She'd mocked him just earlier about being a virgin, and though it was a preconceived exaggeration of a cheap shot, she didn't realize exactly how far from the truth it had been. Even if her brother had gotten it in with some girl at some point during their flurried upbringing, she'd assumed he'd be a fumbling, boorish type. Not that she spent a whole lot of time thinking about it anyway.

But  _ this _ .

The way Carver tilted his hand in to grind against her clit as he fingered her. How he knew how to touch her breasts, alternating between light thumb grazes and gentle pinching to get her nipples hard. He wasn't just not a virgin. Her brother was apparently a well-versed lover.

All this, and yet, atypical of Carver whenever he did manage to do something right, there was no bravado to be found in him now. The way he kept his eyes on her as he touched her body, like he was trying to be extremely mindful of her reaction. Like he was already in the know of something she had failed picked up on. Like this wasn't as random and strange to him as it was to her. As if....

Something dawned on her then. "Since when?"

And she wasn't only curious about today, about this specific boner in this bath tub-- about the way he'd acted as she washed his back or his lack of repulsion to the idea of bathing together. She was wondering about beyond that, as well. Some of the things he had said to her in the past, or would say to her throughout the day. The way he'd act if he was around while she was just having a bit of fun flirting with a random stranger.

_ Since when? _

They shared a room in Gamlen's home. Due to him being her brother, she'd be careless and very liberal with her states of undress around him. Did he stare? When she would wake up and overhear the sounds of him touching himself at night, and she would simply go back to sleep to give him his privacy, was she ever in his thoughts when he came? When he bedded all those girls before, did he ever think of her, wistful and longing?

Why...did that turn her  _ on _ so much?

Carver stared at her, eyes shadowed with worry, with shame. He must've heard her question beyond the question. He opened his mouth, only to close it in a grimace. Then, resolve found, he opened it again--

"I told you not to talk about my children that way," her mother admonished, as a flurry of noise burst into the tiny home.

Gamlen's voice quickly followed hers. "I am only speaking the truth, Leandra! You have been too kind in their upbringing."

Hawke's hands flung back from her brother, in a feral jolt of terror and shock. But the wild movement caused her to lose her balance. She tumbled forward into Carver with a splash, her full weight dropping into his hand, wedging his finger hard and deep into the needy clench of her hot cunt and sending a burst of pleasure through her.

She was coming.

Coming from her brother's finger inside her, and by some miracle she cut off the cry risen in her throat as the feeling took her in waves and made her tremble wordlessly against him.

Carver had gone very still then. "Sister...are you...?"

Inside her, his finger curled with some hesitance, and the pressure was enough to pull her over the last wave of pleasure. She let out a strained giggle, delirious as her body relaxed against his, swept off from her toes off into warm hum of magic that bled into the tub and made the water around them sing pleasantly with her bloodflow. So taken with the moment, she didn't even question as Carver began trailing kisses along her jawline and down her neck. If anything, she inclined her head to give him better access, so she could just relish in the  _ feel _ of everything if only a bit longer.

"Marian?" Her mother's voice so close-- sounded like she was just on the other side of the door-- was enough to sober her. "Is that you in the bathroom?"

"Y-yes." She cleared her throat, attempting to sit up, trying to ignore how Carver's mouth followed, how it felt like he was pulling her back to him. "I'm here, Mother."

"You're back early today!"

Her mother sounded so happy about that, that Hawke felt immediately  _ guilty _ . She was reminded that there her mother was, barely holding it together on the other side of that door, and here her children were, acting in a manner that would have surely broken her. If only guilt were enough. Because it could have spurred her to remove herself from her current predicament entirely.

_ I deserve my bath is why _ , was the fractured argument that surfaced in her head as Carver moved his hand into her, against her again.  _ I'm not leaving my bath. _ By this point, his mouth had trailed low enough to latch to one of her breasts. She exhaled tightly, trying to keep quiet as the hand between her thighs moved more fervently now. Her puss felt hot and swollen, still sensitive from her last peak; she already close again.

"Ask her if she made any extra coin to contribute," Gamlen groused from farther back in the main quarter.

"Gamlen, please.... She's been working so hard already." Her mother's voice carried direct through the door again. "We just got back from the market, dear. I'll get started on supper right now."

Carver slid a second digit into her. The additional stretch sent a flash of heat rolling through her nerves, made her cry out and she was barely able to shut her mouth on it in time. " _ Mmm _ \--!"

"There's the appetite I know," Mother praised. "You surely haven't been eating enough lately."

Hawke's breathing had become erratic, and she hoped it wasn't as loud and laborous as she was hearing it. She attempted to focus on other things, look elsewhere. None of it could override Caver's fingers flexing and sliding in her aching cunt, building her up surely and steadily; she was moving her hips with him, riding his hand, unable to control her want, her  _ need _ for friction. 

"Have you seen your brother?" her Mother asked then.

"I--" Hawke swallowed thickly, eyes fluttering open in time to see a flash of tongue from where Carver's mouth was latched to her breast. "N-No...."

"I wonder where he could be. His armor's in your two's room. I hope he's alright. It's almost dark, and you know Low Town...."

Hawke had to bite down another moan. She pushed weakly against Carver's shoulders to signal him to let up. Mother was just outside! She could walk in any moment. But it only seemed to make him work more fervently on her, and it was difficult to see him as Carver rather than an amassment of delicious sensations upon her breasts, inside her puss....

Carver's mouth released her breast then, sighed hotly against the skin there still wet from his saliva. Hawke sighed too, trying to recover and taper down, but the relief was short-lived, and her brother soon moved to her other breast. The fresh stimulation made her eyes roll back, she brought her hand up her face and bit down on the knuckle, muffling a low whine that sprung from her.

"Well, I'd better get the pot started," Mother said. "Are you nearly finished?"

Hawke was burning from the inside out, from shame, from need. She found her voice enough to say, " _ Almost _ ...!"

She locked eyes with Carver, and could've sworn she could see his pupils dilate. But it was the last thing she'd focus on, because then Carver began finger-fucking her at an ardent pace, pushing deep, pressing the palm of his hand flush to her clit. Hawke was whimpering, struggling now to keep her voice low and locked down behind her balled fist. Her other hand she clung to Carver with, grasp desperate and shaking as he kissed and sucked her tit. She curled over him, feeling herself winding tight. Her thighs wobbled and--

Hawke fell over him, exhaling a low, stuttered breath as a flood of pleasure rushed her body. The bath water between her legs flashed hot with her fluid.

This time, Carver was with her when it hit, coaxed her through it with his fingers, slow but forceful. He nudged her forehead with his as she bit hard on her knuckles and breathed her way through it, shuddering at every pulse that rocked her.

It took a few moments for the pulses to subside, and for her breath to even out. But once they did and awareness crept back, Hawke found herself hesistant to look at him. What had they just  _ done _ ?

Before she could ruminate for too long, Carver was taking her by the wrist. She hadn't even realized her fist was still in her mouth until he removed it for her. She blinked, finding him near unrecognizable as he surveyed her teeth marks on the flesh there and then covered them with his own lips in a featherlight kiss. Then he looked up, caught her gaze. Despite her orgasm being long done, Hawke found her heart pounding. For a while, neither sibling said anything.

Then, the bathroom door opened.

On pure, adrenalized reflex, Hawke ducked into the bath water, completely submerging herself.

If the water was as opaque from the surface as it was underwater, she should be well-hidden. She hoped. From the sound of the voice, the person who walked in was  _ Mother _ . Again, Hawke was stricken by guilt, thinking of how the poor woman would react if she knew what her children were up to. She'd probably blame herself. With any luck, she'd blame Hawke instead, being the elder sibling and supposedly responsible, like she'd done with Bethany's death; Hawke preferred that actually. It was better to have Mother angry to than to have her sad. It was easier to hear her yelling, than to hear her weeping.

She could barely make out the conversation, but she knew Mother was asking Carver what he was doing in the bathroom, and that she'd thought Marian was in here. Carver simply replied that he took the bath from her.

Hawke glowered in the water, at that. At his audacity. And at her Mother's amused laughter (well, maybe not quite so much at that; she could never fault her Mother for finding bright spots in their life that had so few).

Oh, but hey now. She was in the perfect position for payback, wasn't she?

Hawke reached through the cloudy lavendar, and found his cock. Carver physically jumped from the contact, stammering over the middle of whatever he'd been saying in that moment. But he didn't fight her off. Good.

He was still very hard.... Because, right. Of course. She'd gotten off twice, and he had yet to get much from her at all. Well, this wouldn't stand. Not that she thought either of them would speak to anyone else about this, but she still didn't want it on her personal record that she was the type of lover who didn't reciprocate. Even if it was just Carver. And...he  _ had _ done very well with her.

She stroked him, amused when his legs on either side of her shifted. And then she took his cock into her mouth.

The poultice had made the water bitter and awful, but it was well worth the way Carver's thighs tensed at her touch as she curled between them comfortably, bobbing her head as she sucked his dick. She knew she was doing right since his legs were kicking outward, digging into the tub's smooth polish. His hands found her shoulders, and she found she liked the way his thumbs stroked her skin to urge her. She liked even better when his hands trailed up her neck, stroked her hair, rested upon the curve of her head, and pulled her mouth down to take his cock deeper in.

She was lucky she didn't gag, and simply swallowed him into the back of her throat. Above her, she heard his voice break while speaking, and she laughed to herself.

But, also. She needed air. A bit like, now, would have been nice.

She tapped him on the hip, rapidly to emphasize him to hurry. One of his hands for hers, patted it to convey he got the message. But she could still hear Mother's voice in the bathroom.

And really, Hawke needed to  _ breathe _ .

She bobbed up slightly, but Carver's hands caught her and forced her back down, firm against her head and shoulders. His cock jabbed into her cheek from the movement. Her chest was heaving, begging to pull air. But Carver's hands remained planted on her, holding her down.

Her heart was pounding now, demanding oxygen.

Hawke busied herself, tried to distract her survival instincts by pleasing her brother.

She took him deep into her mouth again, to the back of her throat, and sucked. She swirled her tongue along the bottom of his shaft as she bobbed her head up and down upon it, she lavished attention on the tip, she massaged his balls with one hand while using the rest of the length of his cock that couldn't fit wholly inside her mouth. She wasn't even paying attention to his physical response anymore. She was becoming desperate. The pounding of her heart became a pounding in her head. Her vision was becoming dotted with odd splashes of color....

Then, Carver was pulling her up--

Hawke coughed and sputtered, gasping raggedly for breath.

She shot Carver an incredulous glare. "You actually didn't care if I'd died, did you?"

"The alternative would've been Mother seeing you," Carver said. To his credit, he did look torn about it. "And I think she's gone through enough at this point."

Hawke understood that guilt too well. But she couldn't help but push her snark while she was still in her element. "Right, so much better if she'd find out later that her daughter died sucking her son's dick."

"Look, I tried to get her out of here as fast as I could."

Hawke had pulled herself up, leaning far over the rim of the tub to latch the door shut. She...honestly should have done that to begin with.

She nearly lost her balance as Carver's knee nudged her legs apart. Next thing she knew, he was gliding his cock-- swelled firm from being in her mouth-- against the lips of her cunt. It sent goosebumps down her spine, and made her  _ ache _ where his cock brushed.

"Final chance," Carver muttered, "to get out."

"You forget, little brother, that this is  _ my _ bath," Hawke responded quietly. "But if you want to leave, by all means--"

He pushed into her.

Hawke had her head tilted back against his shoulder, mouth agape towards the ceiling as she felt him filling her, stretching her, inch by glorious inch, almost painfully so. Carver grunted once he was sunken the whole way in, his hands digging into her hips enough to bruise.

"You're really sticking to that excuse, eh?" he muttered. Her pussy twinged at the low, edged sound of his voice in her ear. "You really don't want to admit that you...that you  _ want _ this."

She was so wet, so  _ opened _ for him. But. Still. "You first."

Carver snickered, and all at once he was moving, the girth of his cock sliding in and out of her wanting, wettened hole. She was throbbing there, between her legs, and he met that need by driving steadily into it.

"You are  _ maddening _ ," Carver exhaled. "Always talking down to me. Even as you're taking my cock so eagerly."

Something about how he said it, despite it being worded as a complaint, a disdain towards her, made Hawke think that he actually liked that. Especially if his swollen, stiff cock spreading her insides taut was anything to go by. He wrapped his arms tight around her torso, pinning her arms to her sides as he rutted into her more roughly. One of his hands skimmed up and curved around her breast, pinching a nipple between two fingers. Hawke's eyes fell shut and a strangled cry escaped her.

Carver cursed under his breath. She wasn't even sure why he sounded so displeased, until she was reminded.

"Marian?" Her Mother's voice was back, calling through the door unsurely. "But I just...."

Hawke's eyes snapped to the bathroom door's latch as the door was jostled. The latch would hold. It would. But she didn't even know how to respond.

Worse, Carver was still going on fucking her. Even as she squirmed, he held her tighter, bent her forward so he could ram her harder. Another moan spilled from her mouth, further ruining their secrecy.

Carver echoed her, though too quiet for Mother to hear. He leaned over her shoulder, pressing himself flush to her, and just grinded against her then. "You just can't help yourself, can you? How are you going to explain now?"

"What, by the Maker, are you doing? Is Carver still in there as well?" Mother demanded, sounding perplexed.

"He--" Hawke shuddered, clenching hard around his cock as he traced the cartilage of her ear with his teeth. She eked out what words she could string together as she pushed back against him, her squeezing and leaking and hot. "It's-- his fault-- Mother. He stole-- my bath!"

That must have caught Carver off guard, because he paused entirely. Hawke was left quivering and panting and aching and squirming backwards into him for more friction for a brutal moment.

"It was mine for the taking!" Carver argued then, and she saw a flash of his grin. "You owed me!"

And then he was thrusting hard into her again, making her keel and fall forward, barely able to catch herself on the tub's rim as her mouth fell open in a silent scream.

"Don't tell me you two are fighting in there," Mother said, sounding not so much disappointed as fed-up.

"Aren't you both too old to be wrestling?" Gamlen groused loudly from his corner of the house. "Break my tub and you'll be paying for that, too."

"Your son is a bath-stealing, weasel-faced, whining simp," Hawke gasped out, as Carver's hand traveled down and began rolling her clit in the wet folds of her cunt lips. "He-- he's an absolute tit who's bored and lonely and picks fights because he has nothing more productive to do--!"

"Your daughter's a bitch," Carver answered, pressing hard on her clit with frantic, circular motions of his fingers. His other hand snaked up her throat, and two fingers prodded into her mouth, pushed against and slid over the span of her tongue. "A self-glorifying, conceited, holier-than-thou mock of a woman who doesn't know--"

Hawke gaped as her vision went white. A shock of bliss flooded her body and she bucked into his touch. Her clit throbbed to life and her cunt spasmed around the girth of his cock. She seized against him, lips sealing shut around his fingers and sucking hard to keep any moan trapped in her throat and contained. Carver hissed, holding her fast to him as she came.

"--who doesn't know," he continued, pausing to swallow thickly as she fell back and slowly began to relaxed against him at the tail-end of her release, "when she's in over her head."

He breathing came ragged for some reason, as if he had been the one who came. But he hadn't. He was harder than ever, still wedged inside her, while Hawke was the one limp against him and blinking her vision back to focus.

"Whatever is going on, it better be gone from your systems come supper," Mother chastised from the other side. As the floorboards creaked under her weight, her voice came from farther away. "And don't hurt each other too badly!"

"You hear that?" Hawke panted, turning her face to his so he could hear her lowered, hoarse voice. "Be  _ gentle _ , brother."

Carver didn't respond right away, at least not directly. But she found herself being shoved forward, with barely enough warning to catch her hands against the rim of the tub to keep herself from falling over. He pinned her hips against the tub rim, shoving his cock deep into her and fucking her with chopped, frenzied, so so  _ good _ thrusts. She heard him made a choked noise, and then his movements became more urgent.

She already knew before he groaned tightly in her ear, words sultry and strained. "Sister-- I'm-- I'm going to--"

He jerked against her, wedged himself snug inside of her so deliciously it surged her right back up to the peak with him, and Hawke bit down on her lip hard before a scream could escape her throat. Warmth flooded her then, and her pussy clenched in tight spasms as she rode it through. Carver made a pained noise, pulling out slightly just to shove into her hard again, just to spill more of himself into her. He was grabbing her all over, like he wanted to claim all parts of her at once. He pulled out only a bit, and again it was just to fully hilt himself in her filled hole, to fill her even more, and she yelped from the force of it, from the tingling all over her body making her hypersensitive to his continuing use of her.

He was still coming....

" _ C-Carver _ \--"

"...Ngh." The sound was muffled by Hawke's shoulder, as Carver clung fast to her and shuddered with finality. "S-sorry. It's...been a long time."

She didn't want to say it was okay, because really, was it? But she also wouldn't discount that the feeling of being so  _ full _ of him, being so packed with cum that she could feel it brimming warm out of her, dripping into their bath. He pulled back so that she was no longer pinned between him and the tub, and she was able to take a full, albeit wavering breath.

He was resting his chin against her neck, nose and lips on her skin and matted-wet hair as he regained himself.

The afterglow giddiness was bubbling up in her again, and her giggles came out in bouncy sort of panting noises as he was pulling out of her. She was still leaning hard against the tub in a tingling daze as Carver stepped out of it.

He was holding his hand to her.

She was still somewhat out of it and blinked a few times before she realized she was supposed to take it, that he was offering her assistance of getting up and out of the tub. Actually being sweet. Strange, she thought as she accepted his help and he near effortlessly lifted and supported her weight, that her brother was being such a gentleman towards her of all people. Stranger still, maybe, that she wasn't even giving him any lip about it.

He must have realized this too because he withdrew his hand shortly after she had found secure ground, and he quickly looked away to the towel racks. He near threw hers to her, skittish all of a sudden. "Anyway. Er. I'll leave first."

Hawke raised an eyebrow, wrapping her towel around herself. "No, I will. I was the one who filled the tub. You can drain it."

"Right. I can do that. Certainly. I guess...I'll see you at dinner."

"That you will," Hawke affirmed.

She shifted her weight between her legs, ignoring the delicious feel of her brother's residual cum leaking out of her. Her cunt was sore and aching, and felt all too empty now that Carver was across the room. He was wrapping his own towel around himself, but before it made it the whole way around his waist, she saw that he was still hard. They could go at it again, if they wanted. Quickly, she averted her gaze and pushed that idea out of her head. Doing it the once was enough; she was nonplussed she had to remind herself that. It should have been enough, anyway.... No. No, it  _ was _ enough. Too much, in fact. She turned to leave.

"Sister...."

Hawke looked over her shoulder at him, tenative. Carver was fixated on the floor between them, so she waited for him to say what he needed to say.

"I...." In a rush, clumsily attempting their normal antagonism, Carver blurted, "I hate you."

She smiled at that. And then, she blew him a raspberry.


	2. Funny Thing About Sharing A Room

  
  


She was in the middle of pulling on her night shirt when the bedroom door opened. By the lack of commentary, and the pause that echoed her own brief paralysis in having her bare back exposed, she could assume it was Carver.

The door creaked shut.

"Did you forget how to knock?" Hawke muttered, tugging her top the rest of the way down.

"Please, as if you have any virtue left to protect." With a detectable amount of hesitance, he added, "I've already seen it all anyway."

Her face heated up immediately, but she played nonchalant and kept from facing him. "Yes, well, I'd prefer Gamlen not see it all as well."

She wasn't sure why she was suddenly getting flustered. She handled dinner alright. They both did. It had gone on like it normally would have, with Mother doting over them and then reminiscing about bygone days and then becoming very sad, Gamlen with his crass remarks and dour attitude, Carver pointing out everything that was going wrong with none of his own solutions to contribute, and Hawke responding to it all with her blithe sass.

That said, it went fine.

Her brother said nothing to her. In fact, he hadn't even moved from the door since he closed it. Sensing a mounting awkwardness, Hawke laid herself down onto her bedroll facing away from him and pulled the covers up high enough that she wouldn't even accidentally end up in eye lock with him. Eventually, she heard him removing his clothes.

Carver, ever since he was a boy, didn't have to sleep in much. But if she or Bethany tried to sleep in less than a full-bodied outfit, Mother would screech. It was another thing, Hawke decided, that would be different once she owned her own home. A robe, at most, with maybe slippers, and nary any smallclothes to even be bothered with.

Thus, if Carver were to be living with her at that point, then....

Well.

That was a good point to stop thinking.

Her brother had blown out the light. As he settled in his bedroll next to hers, she for some reason became fixated on her own breathing. If it was too loud, or too quiet, or if it being off-rhythm was something he'd take note of.

"You're alright with this?" he asked her, just as the dark was feeling too still.

Hawke hesitated. Alright with what? Which part even? Because...there was a lot to find unsettling about...whatever this was. Just as there were certain aspects that overturned those prior concerns.

She just said, quietly, "I'm not ' _ not _ alright' with it."

It would have to do. All of the other concerns were just...too much. And she honestly was tired at this point, from the day, and from the admittedly fantastic fucking she'd just had, that any pondering about ethics and the like would have be put off until she felt like thinking about it.

Although, now that her mind was on it, she couldn't help thinking about it. The good particulars, at least. Such as Carver miraculously knowing his way around a woman. Knowing all the  _ best _ ways around, if she were honest. Hawke curled her legs up, planting the flesh of her palm between them-- just for some kind of pressure to ease the ache there.

He was right there. It would be so easy to reach over, and touch him, see if he was as wanting as she was. And if not, see if she could get him there. What stopped her, as immature as it was, would only be Carver's boasting right that she had caved and sought him out. And she didn't want to chance struggling to live that down.

"I half-expected you to have dragged your bedroll as far away from mine as possible," Carver confessed then.

"Would that ruin your plan of having another go before morning?" Smooth, Hawke.

Carver snorted. "Is that some kind of request?"

Quickly, Hawke laughed it off as well. "Is that some kind of deflection?"

"If you want me to fuck you again, Sister, all you need to do is ask."

"So that's what you want? For me to beg for it?"

"That says everything about you, you know, that you see a simple 'please' as all-out begging."

"And that says enough about you, dear brother, that at first you said I'd need only ask, and now you're tacking on a 'please' as part of the prereq."

"That's beside the...," he trailed off in a huff. "You're infuriating."

"Good night," Hawke sang with glee.

Carver made a noise of almost-protest, but he clamped down on it. With a grunt to communicate his irritation, she heard him turn over with a flourish of the sheets, faced away from her. It fed into her triumph at once again besting him at their standard raillery.

She was still horny, though.

Her sleeping trousers and smalls were soaked through, damp against her hand. If she wanted to get off, she'd have to wait until Carver was asleep. And if his angry fidgeting was anything to go off of, he wasn't going to fall asleep anytime soon either.

Fuck.

  
  


Warm. A fuzzy-feeling that went down to even to her cold toes. There was a tingle spanning over her skin, turning the warmth into a hot ache. It was dizzying. She arched against it, wanting more. She rolled her body, trying to catch friction in all the best places.

The warmth was shifting, pulling her close, feeding into that fire within her. Then, there was contact. A touch that made her gasp and push towards it. She was swimming in the sensation, moving with it like the tidal rise of it was in her blood.

"Oh, Sister...." Her brother's voice. "You're soaked."

It was between her legs, the touch. Moving and coaxing, pulling tighter the knot forming there. Then, it was gone. Hawke opened her eyes to darkness, blinking in confusion, searching, wanting it back.

She saw her brother's silhouette moving above her, was dimly aware of her bottoms being peeled off of her. Then there was a pressure against her ache, a pressure that began pushing  _ in _ . She let out half a moan before Carver's hand clasped over her mouth.

"Shhh. Maker, I  _ want _ to hear you, but we have to be quiet."

The pressure was stretching her out, making her hotter. Everything down there felt like liquid pleasure be poured over her, sunken into her.

"Carver...," she mumbled against his palm as she was filled.

"I said, shhh," he told her, but his voice was soft.

They both let out a sigh of content once he was in all the way.

He took his hand away and she yawned, feeling even more like putty as smugness crept over the sleepy feeling, and the aroused feeling. "Changed your mind?"

" _ You _ were moaning in your sleep," he corrected sourly. "And trying to hump me."

"You caved," she giggled.

"Excuse you, but technically, you're the one who caved."

Her head fell back, mouth open as she felt him moving, grinding into her. Soothing the ache there, and making it worse all at once.

"Kind of easy to please, aren't you?" he breathed onto her exposed throat before kissing her there.

"I am," she mumbled, and may have tucked her nose to his hair to just,  _ breathe _ him. Because he was there. Because he was so close, and she liked that he was right there where she was. She draped her arms over the back of his neck, pulling him flush against her.

She couldn't make out the look in his eye, but Carver was staring at her in the dark, close enough she could see the lightness of his eyes. He should just kiss her, she thought, since he was this close, but he only gazed as if she were a book he was trying to read.

So she kissed him, opening his mouth for her to taste. She sighed at the feel of his tongue, the give of his lips, and tried to lead him back to her, offering whatever he wanted to take.

"Still half-asleep, I take it," he murmured against her lips. "You're never this sweet to me. And the sex cannot be that good."

"I like you," she protested. "I like this...."

"I think I get it."

He was pushing her arms down, framed her face with them on either side. He pressed down just enough to pin her, and began fucking her slow but deep. Hawke squirmed under him, whimpering under her breath. She was so wet, she could feel herself leaking hot around his cock even as she clenched snug around him.

"You're relaxed, for once. Someone else is taking care of you." Carver touched their foreheads, inhaling all of the soft noises escaping her. "I have you. I'm taking care of you."

Hawke knew he was. She smiled against his mouth, and opened for him there just like she opened wide for him below. Her eyes fell shut at the back-and-forth sway of his girth inside her.

"You're so cute right now. All muzzy-eyed and not giving any lip."

She had to bite her lip to keep from making any noise as he continued bearing down, pushing into her, into the sloppy mess of her puss. She could hear herself, the lewd, wet squelching noise as Carver fucked her, nearly deafening in the darkness and adding to the heat that smothered her self-control.

Hawke tried to move, to meet with and move up the pace, but Carver was too heavy. He stayed pinning her, making her take it his way. At her struggle, he chuckled warm against her ear.

"Who knew my elder sister, who talked so smart and bowed to no one, was actually this depraved?" he panted to her. "Happily taking her brother's cock."

Something inside her lit up, bright and overwhelming. Pleasure flashed through her body, and then Hawke was coming. A cry escaped her, muffled quickly by Carver's mouth on hers.

She felt herself spasm wildly around his cock, clenching and coming over the span of his length in hot pulses-- and she arched up against him as her orgasm pried her open. She was still moaning weakly against into Carver's mouth at the end of it. He briefly broke from her, to shush her, only to follow up with another kiss. Until finally, she lay spent under him.

But to say she was completely relaxed would have been a mislead. Now, she was finally waking up in entirety, wholly aware of her brother stiff and thick, and plugged up inside her. Her pussy made a last, weak squeeze around him, but his cock had her stretched so taut and it allowed no give. A defeated whimper escaped her, and in the next moment, Carver's hand was clasped over her mouth.

Hawke blinked blearily at him, and Carver stared wordlessly back.

Her eyes fell shut as he felt him throb inside her. He must be close. And oh, how she  _ wanted  _ it. She remembered how much he'd filled her while they were in the bathtub-- she'd had to look their mother in the eye as her pussy was still leaking him. He shifted them, so that her legs were up against his shoulders. And then he bore down, bent her in half as he sunk into the hot mess of her needy hole.

Hawke's head was thrown back, eyes rolled back as he took her. She grasped at him, at his hair, his shoulders, the hand he had on her mouth that was the only thing that kept all the dirty noises coiling tight in her throat from leaking out into the night air.

"Didn't I tell you?" he exhaled raggedly, as he placed wet kisses against her jaw and neck, as he fucked her hard enough she thought she'd lose her mind. "You have to be  _ quiet _ ."

He removed his hand, but replaced it with his mouth. She pulled him to her, hands on either side of his face to keep him close so that their noses nudged and bumped as he continued to rut.

She wanted more. She wanted him to come. She wanted to come again, with him.

" _ Carver _ ," she said in a frantic whisper, holding his face, urging him on with kisses.

He moaned, low in his throat and muffled against her mouth. "Beg for it."

She was caught off-guard. There was a pause in her pleasure, a note of hesitation and surprise that curtailed her initial fervor.

By Carver's chuckle, he had noticed. He tucked his cock deep in her, grinding in subdued, torturous circles while keeping her pinned. There was a too-smug look on his face that she might have otherwise found insufferable...but right now, it just made her buckle that much more for him.

"You heard me," he said. "Be a good girl and beg."

Swallowing her pride, she said, in a small, unsure voice, "Please."

Even as she did it, she wondered if it was a good enough rendition, but she would have been at a loss at what else it would have taken.

Evidently, not much.

Because there was Carver, leaned hard into her with a groan. His thrusts became rough and nearly unbearable. Hawke pulled him to her, and their mouths found each other in the dark just as she came again.

Then he was filling her up. She kissed him deeply, desperately, as his seed spilled in, thick and hot and again so  _ much _ of it. It overflowed, brimming out as he gave out to slower, shallower thrusts. She fell back against her bedroll, limp and spent. Carver lowered her legs back down, continuing the kisses at an easier, leisurely pace.

"That was better than last time," Carver muttered, in a tone that conveyed the same mixed feelings she had about it.

"Keeping track?" she asked. She reached up, pushing his hair back from his face. "Planning to make this into a habit or something?"

The surprised laugh she won out of him was worth the jest. "This is entirely on  _ you _ ."

He was picking himself up away from her, but suddenly it was too cold.

"Wait," she said, digging her heels into his lower back before he went too far. "I like...."

And then she remembered who she was asking. What she was asking for. But Carver had paused. He stared at her, questioning. Waiting.

She swallowed, feeling a blush creeping up her neck. "I...like keeping it in. For a while."

Hawke could expect him to make fun of her for that. Maybe with another line about her being a deviant, and liking her brother's cock, and  _ that _ was just making her hot all over again....

But she felt him brush his knuckles against her cheek. When she glanced back at him, she noticed his expression changed. It was...softer.

"Me, too," he admitted.

And, there it was again. They were siblings. It wasn't farfetched at all to think they had similar proclivities even in bed routines. It just...wasn't at all something she'd considered before.

Before she could ruminate too deeply about the wrongness of it all, Carver was shifting them. He lowered himself, first slightly beside her, and then continued the turn so that she was on top, all while keeping himself inside her. The thoughtfulness surprised her somewhat, despite knowing the preference was shared.

"Didn't want to squash you," he yawned. "I'm fading fast."

At that, Hawke couldn't help but feel disappointed. Especially since she was now wide awake. That was the difference, she supposed, between men and women.

"Someone's getting old," she teased.

She knew he was tired for the fact that he didn't sound even remotely annoyed. "One of us ought to."

Carver's eyes were shut. In the dark, she could see his features softening. His breath was becoming even. But he was still...half-hard. Inside of her. Along with the warm, gooey mess of his cum.

Hawke couldn't help herself. One hand moved to one of her breasts, palming it and fingering a nipple hard. Her other hand went down, massaging her clit through the wet folds of her labia. Biting her lip as her breaths became heavier, she started grinding herself onto what remained of Carver's erection.

Her brother sucked in a breath.

"Sister...." He was blinking blearily up at her, apology in his eyes. "I don't know how much longer I can stay hard."

"Don't worry about it," Hawke sighed as she built herself back up. Something about him now, the way he was staring at her, and the way he was just  _ taking _ it, was doing the trick for her. "Go to sleep. I'll be done shortly."

Carver's frown deepened slightly, but he shut his eyes in compliance. His hands trailed to her thighs, barely gripping, more so just touching there, feeling as she moved her hips against his.

Something about that was  _ really _ doing the trick.

Hawke watched his face as she touched herself and used him. She mashed her clit between her pussy lips and his cock, in the mess of his cum that was leaking out between them. She pulled herself heavily against him, taking as much of his length that would go in and held him captive inside her, plugging up as much of his load as she could save inside of her. She played with her breasts, switching from one nipple to the other to keep them both sensitive.

And she watched her brother's face as she touched.

Watched him grimace, heard the small exhales that begun to build in succession with her own, noticed when he opened his eyes slightly-- cheating a peak-- before he quickly shut them again with a full-bodied shudder that she felt all the way to his cock in her. She pressed her lips together, steeling her throat on the noises building there.

Teasing her nipples was starting to send a shock right down between her legs. Her pussy was hot and swollen, nerves gathering tight. Carver's eyes opened again, catching hers in the dark. Hawke's fingers stuttered against her clit as it burst with release. She exhaled hot, trembling as the feeling moved through her.

She curled into herself as she came, holding his gaze. Then she was free from it, fuzzy and warm and regaining her breath.

"Don't stop," Carver whispered.

It was then she realized that he was harder than he was when she'd begun.

Well.

She couldn't leave it at that now, could she?

"Weren't you supposed to go to sleep?" she breathed, leaning over him to rake her teeth over the skin of his collarbone. "You're tired."

Carver's fingers pressed into her thighs weakly. "I...am."

He actually sounded sorry about it. A warmth spread in her chest, and she smiled. "Do you need my help?"

"Help...?"

"Yes." She leaned back, against the curve of his cock, bracing her full weight against him to sink flush to his hips. Her hands rested atop his, gently securing them. "Your big sister is going to rock you, Carver. Do your best to fall asleep."

Before Carver could question her again, she began moving her hips. He gasped, mouth fallen open to the shape of might have been yells if they had been afforded that privacy. A furrow began deepening between his eyebrows. Locks of his hair fluttered around the blissed out face he was making as she jostled him.

Hawke rode him, watching all of this. Warmth was spreading through her again, building between her legs where she trapped him as she mushed them together. The mess of his and her cum and them grinding it between them caused a squishing, lewd sound. Heat coiled there, spiking every time she fucked her hole full with him. His cock slid through her loosely, packed snug and hot still by the load of cum he'd spilled before.

She felt him twinge inside of her in response, felt some of that cum escape her as his cock begun to swell and claim more space.

"Good. Oh, so,  _ so _ good, little brother." Her thumbs stroked against his affectionately, trying to control the volume of her voice as she continued to grind slowly but forcefully. "My little brother's grown up so big and strong. I'm so...so proud of you."

Carver grit his teeth, groaned--

She clasped a hand over his mouth.

"Shhh, you must be quiet, little brother," she murmured, dizzy and hot and giddy. Her pussy was being stretched by him again, finally. She glided the sloppy mess of it over his length, clenching.

Underneath her, Carver had grown so tense. His fingers tried to dig into her thighs to gain traction and urge her, but they only slid against sweat and shook as she fucked him. It was...lovely. Hawke removed her hand from his face, if only to replace it with her mouth. She dipped her tongue into him hungrily, taking him there as well.

He whined tightly against her.

"I don't believe it. I'm so close again." Carver's eyes opened, a thin, wet shine in the dark as he looked to her. " _ Sister _ ."

She smiled down at him. "Don't be naughty. I told you, it's bed time. Now, close your eyes, and let me rock you."

His adam's apple bobbed once as he swallowed. Then his eyes were shut again.

He was hard enough now that she could ride him properly. Hawke sat straight, pulling herself up and down instead of the previous forward and back motion. Her hole slid taut to his girth as she fucked herself on him, fucked the cum left in her even deep in. She was aching from the want of  _ more _ , overcome with the build up of liquid heat drenching his cock as she opened to him.

She came hard, slack-jawed at the ceiling as her pussy clutched and burst with pulses of heat that made her thighs shudder. Her knees gave from the pleasure shock, collapsing her weight onto his full length.

Hawke brought her own hand quickly to her mouth, and bit down as she felt him spurting yet another thick load deep into her. With the strength of her legs zapped, all she could do was squirm and bite back her moans as her pussy took his cum. He spilled so much that it forced her pussy open wider, stretching the space between her walls and the cock nestled whole inside her, and brimmed out between her legs, dripping over the sides of his hips.

Carver grunted roughly, gripping her thighs tight as he bucked up into her hard, releasing the last of it. And Hawke wasn't even sure if she'd been successful as swallowing down her yelp as her eyes rolled back.

She was breathing hard, blinking hazily at the ceiling when she felt Carver tugging gently on her wrist.

Hawke hadn't even noticed how hard she'd been biting on her knuckles until her jaw clicked as she opened them. Just like he had in the bathroom, Carver pulled her hand to his own mouth, gently placing his lips on the grooves left there by her teeth. He met her eyes briefly, expression unreadable, before he let his head fall back with a sigh.

His hand still held fast to hers, thumb stroking the bite marks smooth.

And yet, even winded and exhausted, and so satisfied, Hawke couldn't help herself.

She said, in mock surprise, "You came."

"What did you expect?" Carver asked, still trying to catch his breath.

"I expected you to sleep."

"You can't be serious."

"Unless you thought that was some kind of weird roleplay and you were actually into it?"

Hawke yelped as he shoved her off of him. But she hit her bedroll giggling, further exacerbated by the tickling sensation of his cum squeezing out of her. Carver shot her a reproachful glare as he sat up to retrieve his blanket.

"You are the worst, and I'm going to bed."

She'd expected that much. What she hadn't expected was for him to reach out for her and haul her back to him as he pulled the blanket over them both.

"I like snuggling after," he grumbled, basically daring her to make fun of him.

Hawke nearly did, but the sensation like her heart was being gently squeezed overtook that urge. She took his arm, pulling it farther around her so that she could tuck his hand with hers under her cheek.

"Me, too."


End file.
